


100 Percent

by acercrea



Category: Football RPF
Genre: BVB, Borussia Dortmund, Confident Marco, Cooking, F/M, bitchy ofc, dortmund - Freeform, fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2015-10-19
Packaged: 2018-04-27 02:29:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5030194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acercrea/pseuds/acercrea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marco lied to his girlfriend about his fitness before the international break. How does she react when he comes home?</p>
            </blockquote>





	100 Percent

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This is a request for Elen on Tumblr. I hope you like it and that I didn’t write you too bitchy. I know that was the request, bitchy you, overconfident Marco, but it is a fine line. And since I know I am not the only person who was wondering after the international break if Marco hadn’t given himself enough time to heal after he broke his toe, and that is what this story is about. I hope you like it.  
> Disclaimer: I don’t own anything you recognize. This is just a work of fiction.

“Elen? Are you home?” Marco asked as he arrived home after the international break, throwing his bag down in the hallway as he shut the door.

“Don’t leave your bag in the hallway, please,” Elen called from the kitchen.

“Sure thing, babe,” Marco called back, grabbing his bag and carrying it upstairs to the bedroom and placing it at the foot of the bed.

He went back downstairs and made his way to the kitchen. He walked up behind Elen while she was standing at the counter chopping a zucchini and wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed a kiss to the skin exposed on her neck. “Did you miss me, baby?” he purred in her ear.

“I always miss you when you are gone, honey,” she responded, still chopping.

“What are you making?” Marco asked, taking in her tone and demeanor.

“Ratatouille,” Elen answered evenly.

“So you are mad at me,” Marco sighed, stepping back and grabbing an apple from the bowl on the breakfast bar.

“Why would I be mad at you, darling?” She countered, putting the zucchini in a pot and starting on some carrots.

“Well, you have bitched at me about my bag, you called me honey and darling, you won’t actually look at me and you are cooking. You only cook when you are mad about something and on special occasions and it is not a special occasion,” he said matter-of-factly, taking a bite of the apple.

“I do not only cook when I am mad,” Elen insisted, chopping quicker.

“Are you sure about that? When I got caught driving without a license you made twenty perfect raspberry soufflés; when your sister told you that she had ruined the dress that you had lent her you made a pot roast with mashed potatoes and gravy; and when your father told you that he was not going to be able to make Christmas lunch after all because he was going to spend it with his new girlfriend and her family you added six dishes, threw out the canned cranberry sauce and made it fresh, and made the rolls and all seven pies from scratch in one night. So what did I do?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow at her.

“Do you really want to know what you did? You lied to me,” she responded.

“About what?” Marco questioned, glad she was at least answering his questions.

“You said your toe was 100 percent,” she accused, moving on to a small pile of potatoes.

“It is,” he asserted, putting down the apple and crossing his arms over his chest.

“I saw you play, you arrogant asshole. That was in no way 100 percent, not for you, and we both know it. But if you are going to keep lying then I can too. I am not- Ow! Son of a bitch,” she cut off, putting down the knife and grabbing a dishtowel from the counter.

“Are you ok?” Marco asked, a rush of concern making him forget about the fight.

“100 percent,” she answered through gritted teeth as she checked under the cloth.

“Ok, I was lying, is that what you wanted to hear, are you happy now? Will you please show me your fucking finger?” Marco demanded, running his hand through his hair in frustration.

“Fine, here you go, take a good look,” she shouted back in his face, peeling the towel back to let him look.

The cut wasn’t deep enough to need stitches, but it was long and there was a lot of blood. “I’ve seen worse. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” Marco requested, his anger ebbing away entirely.

“I’m fine, I can do it myself,” Elen responded, wrapping the towel around her finger again and moving to leave the room, turning off the flame under the pot as she went.

Before she got too far away Marco grabbed her elbow and spun her around, using the momentum to sweep her up over his shoulder, her body folded in half, anchored in place by his arm around the back of her knees. “Keep the pressure on it,” he ordered calmly.

“Put me down, you arrogant, pig-headed, overconfident ass of a man,” Elen commanded, struggling against him futilely as he climbed the stairs.

“As you wish,” he responded, placing her on the counter in the master bathroom and bending down to pull out the first aid kit and a couple of bottles from the cupboard under the sink.

“I can do this myself,” Elen insisted stubbornly.

“I know you can. Put your hand over the sink please,” he requested, opening the top of the white bottle. When she had complied and removed the towel, he warned her, “This is going to sting a bit.”

She sucked in a breath as he poured the rubbing alcohol over her hand. “You do know that I am sorry, right?” he asked.

“It is fine, nothing unexpected,” she responded through gritted teeth as he poured the hydrogen peroxide over the cut, and she watched it bubble as it mixed with her blood.

“Not about the pain. I mean, I am sorry about that too, but I was apologizing for the lie,” he clarified as he prepped the liquid bandage. “I know it is stupid, but I thought I would be 100 percent by the time I had to play. And I knew the team needed me, so I had to be good enough, no matter what percent I actually was,” he sighed as he sealed the wound carefully and waited for the fluid to dry.

“I do understand where you are coming from, but you are a striker. You need to be able to use your toe to shoot properly. And I know that you believe that even at 75 percent you are better than almost anyone else at 100 percent, but your team was depending on you to actually be 100 percent. I am sure if you had told them you were not 100 percent that they would have called up someone else. I know Sven is still injured, but Lars or Julian would have been happy to get a call up. It doesn’t always have to be you, you know? What if you had gotten hurt again?” she asked as he put everything away.

“Is that what this is about? I know that last year was just as rough for you as it was for me, I know that I took my injuries out on you more often than I should have and I will never be able to apologize for that enough. But that is not going to happen again. I am being more careful, I promise,” he spoke, taking her hands gently in his own.

“You said that last year. Every time you went out there saying you were definitely fully healed and that you were ready you got hurt again. You take too many risks, Marco, and I can’t help but wonder if your next risk will be the one that ends your career. I don’t want you to have to find out what that feels like. Because you forget that I am right there next to you no matter what happens and I can’t bear to see you that unhappy again. You keep telling me that we are partners Marco. So stop lying to me and start treating me like it,” she pleaded, hanging her head as tears fell down her cheeks.

He lifted her chin back up so that she was looking at him as he wiped the tears from her face gently before leaning in to kiss her softly. His lips were as gentle on hers as his fingers had been on her face and he comforted her easily. When he pulled away he rested his forehead on hers as he spoke, “You are my partner, in every way, which is why we are having this conversation. I am an idiot and you are the one person who is strong enough and confident enough in her position in my life to tell me that when I need to hear it. And honestly I don’t think I was just lying to you, I was lying to myself. I was telling you that I was 100 percent because I needed you to believe it as much as I needed to. I promise that next time if I know I am only at 75 percent I will tell you before I leave. Deal?” he asked.

“Deal. I am totally going to hold you to that, by the way,” Elen informed him. She hopped off the counter and pressed her lips to his again, working her way to his ear. “Now, do you want me to finish the ratatouille or should I welcome you home a different way?” she whispered.

His only response was to pick her up and run with her into the bedroom, her laughter ringing in his ears the entire way.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I hope you liked it. If you did you can leave me kudos and if you loved it you can leave a comment, letting me know what you thought. My queue is closed for the moment, if you are curious just ask and I will explain or if you are patient, I am still planning on making a post explaining my current writing crisis. Thanks as always for reading.


End file.
